A Vampire Dream: The Fog and the Crow
by PippinStrange
Summary: Part of the Dream Series: I always have dreams of the particular favorite fandom at the time. In this case, I found myself attending a boring graduation party in Mystic Falls, and had the opportunity to question a certain Damon Salvatore about his theatrics. R&R!


**I had this crazy dream last night, about sitting and asking Damon Salvatore about his uncanny abilities to control fog and crows. This is the show-verse, not the book-verse. I know in the books, Damon can turn into animals and control the weather… this is based on the unanswered questions in the TV show. Also, it's just a weird dream I had. Please enjoy!**

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It was a front lawn party. Even though there were low, frothy clouds hanging over Mystic Falls, it wasn't raining and the spring air was balmy. Everyone wore light jackets and jeans.

I ducked under the patio tent, set up in the yard with a few metal folding chairs and table for lemonade. People milled around and chatted lightly, half of the crowd putting on a smile for the graduation party. Most of them were aware of all the drama and death that had occurred in the last year, but most were unwilling to discuss it.

For now, everyone was pretending that everybody was human.

I was bored, holding a glass of lemonade in my hand, wishing it was spiked with vodka. Unlike most people here, my drinking would actually be legal.

"Sooo," I said to my sister, who sat next to her friends and her boyfriend. "What's fun around here?"

"We're just talking, join us!" she gushed. Everything my sister did was magnified by excitement and volume. She was popular, but not a mean girl. She looked like the love child of Katy Perry and Katie McGrath.

I glanced with a grim smile at all of her equally popular, beautiful friends. I am no ugly duckling, but I'm not model-status. Everyone tells me I look like Zooey Deshanel, except shorter and slightly stumpier. (What? So I'm six pounds over weight. I like it.)

"Thanks," I said, "I think I'm going to find an empty chair."

I walked around the pavilion and noticed a dark head of the hair and the shine of a leather jacket. _Hm, sexy,_ I thought, purposefully changing my course to I could see to whom these things belonged to.

I didn't feel surprised at all to find Damon Salvatore lounging in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him and his lemonade _probably _spiked.

"Hi," I said bravely, stopping by his chair.

"Why hello," he replied, with that ruffian grin and eyebrow twitch.

"I have a question for you," I said, crossing my arms. "Do you mind?"

"Go ahead," he said easily, giving a flirtatious nod, as if to really say, _Do your worst._

"What's with the fog and the crow?" I asked plainly.

"What do you mean?" he grinned slowly.

"Don't play innocent," I replied, "I know about the weird fog and crow thing. And I'm curious. How do you do it? Other than—you know, being a vampire and all—you don't exactly see other vamps with the whole _spiritual gifts _thing."

Damon smiled slowly, and threw his arms back and lacing his fingers behind his head, like a captive. "And why should I tell you?"

"Why not?" I returned. "I should think you like showing off a little."

"You mean explaining why I'm awesome?" he said sarcastically. "Yeah, maybe a little!"

"So the fog, then," I pressed.

"Have a seat," Damon invited, tapping the older man next to him. "Sir," he said jovially, with a hint of a threat, "Why don't you get up and let the lady have a seat?"

"Wow, really?" I exclaimed. "You don't have to get up…"

"No, it's fine," said the older man, dressed in a dark suit and approximately in his sixties. "I was just leaving…"

"Good man," Damon said with narrowed eyes, as if training a dog.

Reluctantly, I sat down beside him, keeping my knees pointed the other direction but giving my full focus to him. (I hear it said that, in social settings, keeping ones legs pointed away shows your lack of interest).

"I'm assuming Stefan has told you about the coffee," Damon began.

"He may have mentioned something," I lied. _I don't even know Stefan!_

"We drink a lot of coffee to keep our circulation going," Damon explained. "Otherwise we're icy cold to the touch. All the vampires do it, so we blend in."

"How chilling," I said dryly.

Damon smirked. "Well, I just go off coffee for a few days… and if there is enough moisture in the air, if I so much as stick my nose outdoors—the vapors start to condense and woolah! Fog."

"So that's why fog seems to precede your presence," I mused. "That's… pretty scientific."

"Actually, I call upon the Goddess of Fog to cloak me," Damon said sarcastically.

"Not much different than calling on a witch every time you're in a scrap then, is it?" I replied, straight faced.

"Alright, touché," Damon rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, a crow let out a raucous caw from somewhere nearby.

"Is that one yours?" I asked.

"Naw," Damon shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at the nearby fir trees. "My ability to control crows comes from compulsion."

"You compel birds to fly around?" I asked doubtfully.

"Sorta, it's all part of the _effect,_" he replied dramatically. "It's a part of the fear factor. Being a vampire requires a little taste for the theatrics. A crow is like a calling card, or an announcement. If I need it to be, it can work as a persuasive tool."

I put on a dramatic, theatrical tone. "So as long as you stare deeply and lovingly into a crows eyes… they do your dark bidding…"

It was Damon's turn to look judgy. "That's not how it works. I just, you know, do the eye thing, and point in the direction that it needs to fly, or point to the person it needs to fly to. It's simple. Then it flies away. Crows aren't specific to the compulsion, it's just the nearest bird every time."

"There are crows everywhere," I nodded, annoyed. "They breed like rabbits out here."

"M_hm,_" Damon said, amused. "It's helpful for a little intimidation."

I nodded, glancing at him. He raised his eyebrows, expecting a reply.

"Well?" he asked. "Aren't you a little impressed?"

"Does it matter?" I asked. "Thanks for telling me. I was very curious."

"Curiosity kills the cat," Damon said in a sultry voice, his meaning masked. I knew I wasn't in any danger. But still…

"I guess it's a good thing I'm not a cat, then, isn't it?" I quipped. "Thanks for your time," I stood up to leave.

"Why don't you stay?" Damon asked, unsmiling and serious.

"Why should I?" I asked.

"Oh, come on," Damon drawled, "Don't pretend you don't enjoy flirting with me. And this party blows, anyway."

"That's why I'm leaving it," I straightened my sweater and held out my hand for a good, old-fashioned human handshake. "Thank-you for answering my questions, Mr. Salvatore."

Damon grasped my hand and kissed the back of it lightly. _Oh, you southern gentleman, you…_

"It was my pleasure," he said deeply, his smile slightly frustrated and his eyes squinting. "Till we meet again."

I withdrew my hand, and with a hesitant smile, walked back across the grass. I passed my sister, and she was giving me the ferocious, older-sister type of look that seemed to say _I heartily disapprove of the company you keep._

I gave her an honest shrug and left the party, questions and curiosity satisfied.

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**I hope you enjoyed this short blurb! Leave your reviews please!**


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